Chapter 41
CHAPTER 41
A bout a week and a half after Darcy left, there was a letter from Derbyshire, announcing that Mrs Tupper had married the Widower Gordon, who had left the lease of his farm to his eldest son who had recently married, and joined her in her cottage, accepting a position from Lord Matlock as a gamekeeper. Marigold was comforted to know that her mother had a husband to protect her now, a formidable one, for Mr Gordon was a large man, and fearsome when provoked. The couple had left for their wedding trip, a four week journey to the highlands, to help the gamekeepers there manage an issue on Lord Matlock’s Scottish estate.
Georgiana heard little from Richard. When Lord Lennox ceased calling, the visits of Sir Albert slowed, for the two men were usually in each other’s company. Sir Albert acted oddly when in the company of the younger ladies of Bourne House, and asked all manner of odd little questions now, which Georgiana rightly understood to be attempts to make one of them trip up and admit to a knowledge of whatever plot was being hatched in Eastbourne. Georgiana understood that she and all of the ladies were being watched now, and therefore it was unsafe for Richard to approach her often, but she knew he was watching as much as he was able.
Richard was following Huggins and all of his agents in their turn, as well as Colonel Allen and the particular officers that the man used to follow his family. He was hoping against hope that one of them would lead them to Wickham, but so far he had no luck finding the man’s location. Richard suspected Wickham to still be in Chichester, stirring up trouble for the mills there. He only hoped that Wickham did not find some way to harm Darcy.
Wickham had been in Chichester, but returned to Eastbourne when he had done as much as he was able there. The situation in Chichester would turn extremely volatile in short order, and Wickham had no intention of being close enough to be fingered as the ringleader when it all came to a head. Richard learned of the return of his and Darcy’s nemesis by listening to a conversation between Huggins and Colonel Allen. Then he made it his business to follow Huggins exclusively until such measures bore fruit, knowing that Huggins would meet with Wickham again sooner or later.
After a third message sent to London requesting assistance, Richard finally sent two other messages. One to Darcy House, asking that several footmen and grooms who were very familiar with Wickham be sent to Bourne House. He did not meet with them when he arrived, but Torrens did. Torrens explained to each of them that the ladies in the house were being watched by Wickham and possibly some of his friends, and that they must be protected at all costs. There were armed men who watched the house at night, and others who watched it during the day, taking notes of the others who turned up to watch from Huggins and Colonel Allen. Darcy’s men from their London house also accompanied the ladies everywhere. After the behaviour of Lord Lennox on the street, Lady Catherine could easily blame him and the absence of her nephews for the heightened security.
The comte now came every day to Bourne House, both to see Lady Catherine, who looked much better and stronger every day, and also to assist Mary with her piano practice. Before, she had spent her days with William, discussing sermons, scripture, and estate management, or possibly with her sisters or the other ladies. Now she spent every moment at the piano, and the comte had been so generous as to spend several hours with her each day. He joined the family at dinner whenever they dined at home, though he still never ate or drank anything but mineral water.
William was now at loose ends, and had nothing to do but practise cricket with some of the local men, or wait upon Lady Catherine, and as he did, he wondered how he had stood it before, even now that her ladyship’s address was so much improved. He dearly wished that the other gentlemen would return, so that he might have a wider society. Every time he went looking for his betrothed, she was in the music room, laughing, and even singing! The comte seemed to be a superb teacher of everything, and quickly showed Mary all that she was doing wrong musically, helping her learn what tones sounded best with her voice, and what notes to avoid, considering her vocal weaknesses.
Every evening, Mary played for their party after dinner, and every one clapped and exclaimed, and gave their congratulations, even Miss Woodhouse, who, as a rule, disapproved of the Bennet sisters entirely, due to their uncles in trade. William did his best to seem happy for his betrothed, and he was certain that he was happy for her, very happy indeed. But she played all day and half the night now, she barely had a word for him any longer. She and the comte spent a great deal of time in each other’s company, and the man must be very funny, for Mary laughed a great deal when in conversation with him.
One morning, another clergyman accompanied Mr Woodhouse and his daughter on their call to Bourne House. “Mr Elton and I know each other well!” cried William, standing to shake his old schoolmate’s hand once the introductions had been made. William Collins had not had any close friends at school, his demeanour had prevented it, but he had run into a clergyman that he knew from his Oxford days while visiting London with his cousins and the other gentlemen. The man had wasted no time writing to the other men in their year, to inform them that Collins of all men, had not only improved himself greatly, but had obtained two valuable livings, was engaged to a very pretty girl, and now had some excellent connections. Shortly after, he had received letters from many clergymen he had known in school, congratulating him on his good fortune, and he had commenced correspondence with several of them. Elton had not been one of them, but William was happy to see him nonetheless.
“I heard that you had reverted to an old family name, Bennet. How have you been since Oxford?” said Mr Elton, smiling. “And I heard that you are betrothed as well – it was in my last letter from John Kershaw. Is your lady here?”
“She is in the house, but you find her at her music practice,” answered William. “Perhaps she will join us presently.”
“Miss Elizabeth, this is our friend, Mr Elton, to whom I recently mentioned wishing to introduce to you,” said Miss Woodhouse.
“How nice,” Elizabeth said, not wishing to encourage Miss Woodhouse or Mr Elton.
“Miss Woodhouse wrote to me that the company hereabouts is very congenial,” said Mr Elton. “I can see just from the company in this room that society here must be delightful.”
“A little less varied than one might expect at a seaside resort, or even in the countryside, but no less delightful,” replied Elizabeth. “If one is truly here for their health, then the limited company must be more restful, I believe.”
“Less varied, not at all! We dine with ten families of all shapes and sizes in Highbury!” declared Miss Woodhouse. Elizabeth did her very best not to laugh at this openly, and instead dipped into a curtsey and moved across the room to join Jane and Priscilla.
William remained to speak with Mr Elton. Miss Woodhouse learnt that she would quickly be paid out for her meddling, for Mr Elton would not be pried from her side to pay court to Elizabeth. Eventually, out of irritation that he would not be parted from her, even when he was conversing with another, Emma Woodhouse swooned in distress, and had to be carried home.
Darcy rode his horse alone into the market street in Eastbourne. He and Charles had not taken their carriages into Chichester, instead leaving them to the multitude of ladies at Bourne House. Darcy had also left his valet behind because he was still ill, instructing the man to remain, and that if he became well enough, to do what he could to help Torrens see to the security of the house. It had taken a few days, but the disquiet had cooled in Chichester. Their mills had barely even been involved, though the Darcy and the others had stayed and done their best to assist those whose mills were affected, for when the whole town went up in a rage, all mills would be destroyed by the mob. The other mills were not among the worst of those who abused their labourers, but they could be improved.
Mr Gardiner and Charles had agreed that they would stay behind and show the other men what improvements they had made to the mills they purchased the year before, and how those investments improved not only the health of the workers, but also the profits of the mills, allowing them to offer higher wages without feeling the pinch. Mr Bingley and Mr Gardiner also agreed that Darcy should return to Eastbourne immediately, considering his concerns, which he had shared with them after receiving Elizabeth’s letter with Richard and Georgiana’s warning in it. He was baffled as to the suggestion that Wickham might be in Chichester, what complicated mess had his cousin and sister uncovered?
Darcy left his horse at the livery, and headed towards the confectioner’s where he intended to purchase sweets for Elizabeth, Georgiana, and his aunt. He also carried a book of Wordsworth in his pocket, procured for Elizabeth from Chichester. He planned to propose before Lady Amesbury’s ball, which was to be in a week and a half, just a few days after the cricket match. He and Bingley had both obtained Mr Bennet’s approval for their engagements in advance of their visit to Eastbourne, so they could announce their engagement at the ball, if Elizabeth wished it, and if Lady Amesbury agreed.
Just before he entered the shop, a flash caught the corner of his eye, and he turned in time to see George Wickham turn down an alley. Determined to collar his old enemy, he followed, first up one alley, then into another, into the mews behind houses, down lanes alongside shops, until he was quite turned around. He paused at the back of an alley, Who was that man, waiting? Was that Lord Amesbury’s son, Lord Bexley? Suddenly there was a noise behind him. Before he could turn, he was coshed on the back of his head, and all went black.
Two days later, Bingley rode up to Bourne House on his horse. He was beaming to see Jane as he was announced to Lady Catherine’s drawing room, and was greeted by the ladies and their guests.
“Hullo, everyone! I am ever so glad to be back well in time for the cricket match! Hullo Caroline! Where is Darcy? Is he off practising with William?
“William is visiting his friend Mr Elton,” Elizabeth said, her eyes wide. “Ought Mr Darcy not be with you?”
“By jove, he came two days ahead of me!” exclaimed Bingley. “Your Uncle Gardiner intends to follow in a few more days, he is conducting some more business in Chichester, but Darcy should already have arrived!”
“What do you mean, Darcy came ahead of you?” said Lady Catherine sharply, rising to her feet in concern. “Are you certain he did not go to London first?”
“Yes indeed, for Darcy was concerned about a particular matter here, and wished to return with all urgency. Gardiner and I agreed, and encouraged him to make haste; I am very certain of it,” answered Bingley.
“What could have happened to delay him?” cried Georgiana.
“And why would you not have come across him on your journey?” added Priscilla.
“I ought to have seen him, for I took the same roads that we travelled there by, and stopped at the same inns the entire way,” said Bingley.
“What can be done?” asked Elizabeth in fear. What could have happened to Fitzwilliam? She was certain that he would have returned to her and Georgiana at all speed, considering the tone of the last letter they had sent him.
“Bingley, you must go back out immediately, and find him,” said Lady Catherine, with a touch of her old imperiousness.
Bingley barely noticed any rudeness, if her ladyship’s demand could be described as such. Bingley was every bit as concerned about his friend. “Perhaps I ought to ask questions in the market town first, and leave in the morning. I should hate to go straight back to the road and miss him if he is here somewhere.”
“We have Bennet here, and I can ask Mr Woodhouse, and the comte , and even the mayor to ask questions here, Bingley,” Lady Catherine insisted. “You must go, immediately. If we find anything, we shall send a message behind you.”
Bingley was not at all unwilling to agree, and so after a cup of tea and a plate of sandwiches, he took a parcel of food and a bottle of cider from the kitchens, stowed it in his saddlebag, and after a moment tender goodbyes with Jane, he was on the road again.